


'pon my Farr

by adarkwintersday



Series: Hide Those Ears [7]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7904383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adarkwintersday/pseuds/adarkwintersday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know what they say about Vulcans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'pon my Farr

_Jocks_.

 

It’s the start of the second five-year-mission, and the _Enterprise_ has several fledgling recruits.

 

 _All deeply tiresome_ , Lieutenant Uhura thinks.

 

They make her wonder what Starfleet’s coming to.

 

The dodgy innuendoes about Yeoman Lars are bad enough.  And Lieutenant Uhura (matching them drink for drink in the bar, remaining considerably soberer than they are, and generally, if she’s honest, just keeping an eye out for trouble) dreads to think what they will say, when her back is turned, about _her_.

 

But she doesn’t lose her temper until they get to the _Enterprise_ ’s First Officer.

 

Once upon a time Uhura harboured serious feelings regarding Mr Spock.  And although she’s moved on - is happy for him to be happy, is currently contemplating other possibilities for herself...

 

‘Those _cheekbones_.  And then he gives you _nothing_.  He’s like a walking, talking _false promise_ \- ’

‘Ramrod up his ass - ’

‘God, but I _wish_ \- ’

‘Is it true, do you think, what they say about Vulcans - ’

 

At which point Uhura snaps.

 

‘I suggest,’ she says, in the gentlest voice she has - which is also, as she knows perfectly well, her most cutting.  ‘I suggest that you ask the _Captain_.’

 

The effect is an extremely satisfactory (as far as the Lieutenant is concerned) _silence_.

 

One that lasts, among this bunch of Earthling _na_ _ï_ _fs -_ who are, let’s face it, when it comes to the reality of inter-stellar sexual practices, all mouth, and no - well, _mouth_ …

 

And for whom Captain James T. Kirk represents everything that is _alpha_ about their species…

 

The effect will last for weeks.

 

~

 

There’s a general atmosphere of excitement and camaraderie among the _old-Enterprisers_.  Captain Kirk is back at the helm, Mr Spock is at his side - and all of space is before them.

 

Over the next few days, however, there’s a sneaking sense of unease.

 

Uhura notes that, on a couple of occasions, Mr Spock doesn’t seem quite _himself_.  Reacts to things a little too fast.  Is almost _emotional_ , if she dares employ the word.

 

But more worrying is the Captain.

 

~

 

‘Captain? _Captain?_ ’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Chekov?’

‘Should I raise the shields?’

‘Um - yes please, Mr Chekov.’

‘Are you sure, Captain?  The Tholians may consider it a gesture of aggression.’

 

Oh _christ_.

 

What the hell is he talking about?

 

‘Captain,’ says First Officer Spock gently.  ‘I believe that Lieutenant Chekov was merely asking you the question as a matter of protocol.  The Tholians are not behaving in an aggressive manner.  To adopt a confrontational aspect at this time would be illogical.’

 

Jim swings his eyes to the right, the way he always does.  But, today, with a smile that is both helpless and grateful.

 

They are ten days into the mission, and he hasn’t slept for three.

 

He can barely keep his eyes open.

 

~

 

 _Logic_.

 

Emotions are chaos, wanting is dangerous, hunger is madness.

 

But when the waves sweep over you, when they threaten to drown you (and they are always, _always_ threatening to drown you)…

 

You have _logic_ to hold on to.

 

Vulcans can go for days without sleep, and Spock is seldom affected by fatigue.  It has only been seventy-nine hours and twenty-six minutes - and once, when trying to rescue the Captain from the planet Amerind, he went for almost six weeks…

 

But Spock is drowning.  His mind fracturing.

 

For eight years now there has been nothing but _the Captain_. And yet, right now...

 

There is _nothing_ but the Captain.

 

 _Logic_.

 

Logic is a series of magic runes, drawn with a stick in the dust.

 

But it is just enough.

 

Enough to keep him from hurling himself across the bridge, and doing something entirely inappropriate to his senior officer.

 

He can make it until tonight.

 

Or so he sincerely hopes.

 

~

 

‘Doctor?’

 

The doctor looks round. It’s Chief Engineer Scott.  And he’s brought a bottle of single malt - which means (good man) he wants to talk.

 

The doctor closes the medical cabinet he’s been re-organising (the start of a mission always brings out the _OCD_ in him) and sits down.

 

‘There are several glass tumblers at the back of the shelf to your left.  How can I help you, Mr Scott?’

 

The engineer sits down, and pours them both a generous three inches of whisky.  And then asks -

 

‘Doctor. What the hell is wrong with the Captain?’

_Ah_.

 

The doctor started asking himself the same thing a couple of days ago.

 

And then he did the math.

 

Subtracted _seven_ , and sure enough…

 

But how in the galaxy to explain it to a man like Montgomery Scott?

 

‘It’s a rather delicate matter, Scotty.’

‘Delicate, Doctor?’

‘A matter of - ah - personal relationships.’

 

The Scotsman frowns. ‘Anything wrong with Mr Spock?’

 

Oh _god_.

 

‘Not _wrong_ , Scotty, as such.  It’s just...’

 

The engineer’s round dark eyes are fixed, quite innocently, on his face.

 

McCoy rolls his eyes.  ‘Interplanetary sex, Mr Scott,’ he says, drily.  ‘It throws up all kinds of surprises.’

 

And suddenly Mr Scott’s face breaks into a broad grin.

 

‘I _see_.’  He shakes his head.  ‘Well well, Doctor.  Enough said.’

 

~

 

The Captain opens his eyes, and groans.

 

‘What time is it?’

‘Earth hour fourteen thirty four.’

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

 

His First Officer looks apologetic.

 

‘I did try.’

_Oh well._

Still groggy with exhaustion, Jim crumples back beneath the sheets.  It’s the first time that he’s actually slept in a week.  Not that he _minded_ \- quite the opposite, but -

 

Come to think of it -

 

‘Spock?’

‘Yes, Captain?’

 

His lover is up, and fully clad.  Sitting in front of the console at his desk, looking fresh-faced and immaculate.

 

‘Is that it?’

‘The fever,’ says Spock quietly, ‘would appear to have burned itself out.’

 

Most of Jim is sorry.

 

A small part of him thinks, _thank god_.

 

‘Spock?’

‘Yes?’

‘Would you please contact Bones, and ask him to give me a day of formal sick leave?’

‘Captain - ’  The flicker of an eyebrow.  A twitch at the corner of his mouth.  ‘I already have.’

 

Usually a look like that would make Jim want to drag him back to bed.  It sort of does.  But strangely appealing, nevertheless, is the lure of just lying here, and drifting back towards sleep…

 

It’s not as if their sex life has ever been boring.

 

Quite the opposite.

 

But - _relatively_ boring, he thinks.

 

And right now _relatively boring_ rather appeals.

 

~

 

They both knew they were taking a risk.

 

Several, in fact.

 

Jim pointed out that it could hardly, _logically_ , be the first time a Vulcan had gone through Pon Farr with a human.

 

Spock pointed out that last time he had gone through Pon Farr it had - in fact, if not in theory - been with Jim.  And that it had - in theory, if not in fact - killed him.

 

Jim stated that if Spock even _considered_ going through Pon Farr with anyone _else_ , so help him god...

 

Spock couldn’t really argue with that.

 

And then they both realised that it was going to happen _on board the ship_.

 

During the second week of the new mission, to be more accurate.

 

Rather an ambiguous start.

 

~

 

‘Feeling better, Jim?’ the doctor drily asks.

 

And the Captain, quite unembarrassed, grins.

 

He has his ship.  He has his _Spock_.  He has the whole of space.

 

And he has just crossed a new frontier when it comes to inter-planetary sex.

 

‘You know what, Bones? I’ve never felt better in my life.’

 

~

 

 _You know what they say about Vulcans_.

 

But they have no idea.

 

Jim’s articulate, brilliant Science Officer - the creature whose face flickers, like candle-light, with gentle, detached thought -

 

This is the Spock he fell in love with, and, galaxy-wide hearsay regardless, he never expected (not that he objects, mind) a lover who, between the sheets, is ruthless, and hungry, and wordless.  Who handles his body with the skill and originality of an expert.

 

 _Never expected…_ and is strangely grateful, perhaps, that there’s more than this.  Loves best, maybe, the Spock who, when it’s all over, will lie in his arms, almost childlike, overwhelmed by his own emotions.  Who needs to be teased, and reassured, and coaxed softly forward.

 

 _Relatively boring_ , the Captain thinks.

 

It will do for the next seven years.


End file.
